


Nine of Swords

by thisAnon



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-13 01:50:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3363293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisAnon/pseuds/thisAnon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian clearly spent a lot of time thinking things through before he went up the Inquisitor's quarters. Written as a fill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nine of Swords

Being who he was, a man who preferred other men, Dorian quickly learned it was best not to hope for much in that regard at any given point in time. He knew how to be careful, to be discreet and most of all to successfully, but subtly, gauge interest. Challenging at first, especially for someone with a forward personality such as his, but hardest lessons learned were better retained. Yet, if that was the case, why was he repeating the same mistakes he had vowed never to again?

It was Trevelyan's fault, Dorian thought, unable to even be properly annoyed at the fact as his face came to mind. 

There was something about him. It was definitely not that he was Inquisitor. The man grew up in a noble family that wasn't the sort to raise the lazy, pampered types, after all and suddenly being in-charge of the Inquisition must not have made much of a difference for him. It was that cocky, do-whatever-I-want attitude he had going on that had Dorian... interested. For a man who nearly had all the world at his feet, he seemed more concerned about the new places he would get to see and how many battles he would get into while doing so. Not that he was an ineffective leader. He made the decisions with a clear, level mind after weighing the pros and cons, which was slightly comforting, given the man often seemed only to take things seriously when it suited him.

Irritatingly enough, the man's flippancy extended to his personal matters as well. Dorian was willing to bet the Inquisitor was playing with him. It was no big secret the Inquisitor also preferred the intimate companionship of men, but it was whether or not Trevelyan was interested in _him_ that frustrated and confused Dorian to no end. Just because there were two men who preferred other men within each other's vicinity did not mean they were interested in each other. But _kaffas_ the man was hard to read. There was flirting, definitely, but it was all teasing and little else. Dorian had the impression he was being toyed with and not just lightly.

Unwilling to make such an issue out of it, Dorian, as they say in the south, went along with the flow. He returned the flirting always kept to the same bounds Trevelyan kept. There were no suggestive, lust-filled looks full of longing, no subtle invasion of personal space and certainly no physical contact. The latter convinced Dorian it was all going nowhere and he was quite at peace with that fact— or so he thought.

When Mother Giselle brought up the subject of his 'undue influence' over the Inquisitor, the euphemism almost brought Dorian to a laughing fit, almost— if it had been true. But it wasn't and Dorian instead was left mildly annoyed. Clearly Mother Giselle had no idea it was Trevelyan who was stringing him along. Honestly! Dorian had very little patience for such annoying assumptions and thought to dismiss her as quickly as he could.

But then of course, Trevelyan had to intervene during the little argument. Dorian had fully expected Trevelyan would get another laugh out of this, but instead the Inquisitor had shown the opposite, using that silver tongue of his to be sharp. The slight chill in his words when he confronted the revered mother over the rumors and the subsequent, quite serious and direct "don't listen to her" from him eradicated all traces of annoyance and instead brought Dorian's mood into amusement. Trevelyan's indignance might as well be the disapproval of someone who didn't like other people to mess with his games. As soon as Mother Giselle took her leave, Trevelyan had been eager to get back into the flirting. 

By then, Dorian had all but given in to the teasing and broke all the rules he had set for himself and kissed Trevelyan, right then and there in the library in full view of everyone who frequented it. By the smirk he was given afterwards, Dorian suspected this had been what Trevelyan wanted all along, to have Dorian make the first move.

Dorian didn't relish the role of being baited rather than doing the baiting, but Trevelyan's advances became more frequent, even more direct. There was no sugar-coating what he wanted from Dorian, a far cry from all the casual flirting he had done just weeks before. He indulged Trevelyan in this, fully aware that clearly it was all but a dalliance. There was no way any of it anything but, as Dorian seriously doubted the Inquisitor would keep a Tevinter mage beside him and risk his reputation. Trevelyan was too clever for that, clearly.

Yet Trevelyan's attentions persisted and he even went as far as personally attending to the matter of the Pavus birthright. It was something Dorian honestly would have liked to keep to himself, seeing as it was his own folly that had pushed him to part with it in the first place, but Trevelyan did what he liked, despite any protests. The man was nothing if persistent. Soon enough, Dorian was met with a very smug Trevelyan presenting him with his amulet. Apparently the Inquisitor could work wonders, so long as he also wielded a very astute diplomat. Dorian wondered what favors had been extended simply to obtain a fancy trinket— a very important fancy trinket but a trinket nonetheless. 

The idea of it baffled Dorian even more, especially with all that was between them was taken into account. For all of this, clearly Trevelyan expected something in return. This was a given, despite all the protests from the Inquisitor himself. Even what exactly Trevelyan wanted for him in return could be figured out easily enough. Despite all the romantic advances and stolen moments, he and Trevelyan had not exactly gone all the way, for a lack of better term, and Dorian had already danced to this particular tune. Trevelyan had done all he could to convey exactly what he wanted and now simply awaited Dorian to give it to him, just like that kiss in the library.

Really, the man was artful in his manipulations, because Dorian had little choice but to play into Trevelyan's hands time and time again afterwards.

At that point, Dorian admitted defeat and gave in, despite being fully aware that no good would ever come out of it. What was he thinking? He wasn't, actually. He had been strung along by Inquisitor Trevelyan and allowed himself to be strung along despite being fully aware of it. What began as mild interest turned into Dorian actually actively wondering how things would be if there was something more, what would happen if it was more than just fooling around. 

He had began to anticipate the afternoons when Trevelyan would come into the library to suggest they do something interesting together, which mostly involved them playing Wicked Grace against each other without actually winning the each other's coin. Whatever Dorian would win, Trevelyan would mostly win back after a few rounds, smirking all the while.

Dorian dared not admit that he enjoyed Trevelyan's company despite everything as doing so would let loose a slew of questions that had no good answers. What exactly Trevelyan wanted? All Dorian could think of was how Trevelyan evidently throve on nothing but fun and games, pushing Dorian into despair as he tried not to hope for more, and yet still did, because Maker, the throught of more with Trevelyan would be... really foolish. 

Once. He would allow such a dalliance to occur once and past that he needed to ask Trevelyan what exactly they were doing. He could take no more, as he could only just barely conceal the tension bubbling in him whenever Trevelyan was in sight.

So, Dorian chose one late afternoon when the Inquisitor finally finished a bout of delegations that would spell Thedas' doom or salvation and retired to his quarters, Dorian followed and proposed they get on with business. He had played the scene in his head countless of times, anticipating all the endless scenarios. Sometimes he even mumbled to himself whatever he was supposed to say, though he felt more foolish afterwards than he did before. So he asked, in his rehearsed lines and naturally, the Inquisitor accepted. How Dorian managed to say all that and go on with his usual flippant air could only be attributed to his resolve. Whatever happened after this, (and he could imagine it, Trevelyan laughing off his questions, telling him it was all just a bit of fun, rejecting him outright before things turned too serious for his liking, feigning sleep in order to avoid the conversation entirely, all the possibilities of disaster ran through Dorian's mind) he would at least try to preserve some of his dignity. 

Clothes were shed as fast as various buttons and buckles could be undone. Roaming hands followed coasting lips and Dorian tried to lose himself to the familiar rhythms of giving and receiving pleasure, but even as thoughts were put aside, Dorian found some difficulty in simply enjoying all that followed, which was strange, because he was used to this. He was used to taking pleasures when they come and leave any sort of emotion away from it, but he could not help but think that each heated caress and deep, passionate kiss would be the last, making Dorian savor each touch and commit them into memory. It was all he might have when this was over, but at least he would have something.

As with all good things, it came to an end soon. For a moment, Dorian relished the intimacy of Trevelyan's weight on him as they both regained breath. Eventually Trevelyan eased away, but not before capturing Dorian's lips in another kiss before he curled to the side into a light nap. 

As quickly as the warmth from Trevelyan's proximity left him, anxiety began to take root, unfolding in the pit of his stomach. The familiar dread came, making him anticipate what would happen next because he honestly didn't know. Had this been Tevinter, Dorian would know exactly what to do, leave. Now, now it wasn't so clear, and all Dorian could think of doing, from all the days past he had agonized over this moment, was to simply have Trevelyan decide what it all should be.

Dorian glanced at the man lying beside him, dozing with a small smile on his face, so peaceful and carefree Dorian was not sure whether he found it annoying or endearing. 

He rose from the bed, jostling Trevelyan from his light slumber. The man said nothing as he rolled on his side, a small smug smile on his face now, quite satisfied with their tryst no doubt and in a few moments Trevelyan would either dismiss him or invite him for another round, but Dorian would not have either, not before he said his piece, but the lines he had previously gone over in his mind no longer sounded quite like what he wanted to convey. 

Suddenly the drapes seemed absolutely interesting. It would be a good place to start, talking about something as mundane as drapes and the abhorrent way they clash with the carpet.

"I like your quarters," Dorian began, because pretending he didn't care about anything at all at the moment was better than sorting through the tangle of his emotions. Better to start somewhere distant, to allow himself at least a few more moments to gather what exactly he wanted to tell Trevelyan.

"Do you now?" came the lazy murmur from the bed, a hint of that smirk evident in the sparse words that had been spoken. 

Dorian grinned despite himself but quickly rectified his statement. It wouldn't do for him to be too presumptuous. "Don't misunderstand, I'm not suggesting we venture into mutual domesticity. I just like your appointments."

"Ah," was Trevelyan's response and Dorian thought he heard a tone of disapproval in that one syllable.

"Not that I couldn't suggest some changes," Dorian trudged on, sitting back down on the edge of the bed as Trevelyan propped himself up on one elbow. "Your taste is a little... austere."

Trevelyan's finely shaped brows furrowed for a moment, clearly Dorian's words gave him pause. Was telling someone their taste was austere offensive? Too late for Dorian to take it back now. But what Trevelyan said a few seconds later shouldn't have surprised Dorian at all.

"You seem a little... distracted," Trevelyan said.

Trust the Inquisitor to catch on to the meaningless banter. "Sex would do that. It's distracting."Dorian returned, not missing a beat. He should consider theater acting one day with how good he was at keeping this act up.

"I heard a rumor," Trevelyan countered with a small smirk and a raised eyebrow, communicating without words that he wasn't going to buy that last statement at all. Maybe the theater wouldn't be a good idea after all.

"Very well, you've rooted me out," Dorian relented, sighing softly. "There is something I want," he declared, hands balling into fists as he steeled himself. He wondered briefly if anyone could ever successfully prepare themselves for heartbreak, because Dorian was not in anyway ready, but he had already ran out of time.

"I'm curious where this goes, you and I," Dorian began. "We've had fun, perfectly reasonable to leave it here, get on with the business of killing archdemons and such..." he stopped before he rambled on too much.

Trevelyan slid to the edge of the bed, sitting now beside Dorian. Those bright eyes, usually full of mischief regarded him now with nothing but serious attention. "Tell me what you want."

"All on me, then?" Dorian asked, releasing his hold on the poor sheets. 

"Should it be all on me?"

No, not really, Dorian thought wryly. Had it been all up to Trevelyan they wouldn't even be there now, would they? But as much as Dorian felt otherwise, the decision did fall on Trevelyan's shoulders. What he actually wanted, what he was expecting out of all of this— it was all on the Inquisitor. Dorian would not—could not— influence the Inquisitor's decision on this matter. Trevelyan needed to draw the line and all Dorian could do was to tell him his side, that if all Trevelyan wanted was this, he could at least end it now that he had his fill. 

He sighed, turning his gaze to the carpet. The carpet was actually quite atrocious as well. "I like you. More than I should. More than might be wise," he said, surprised at the clarity of his speech despite how difficult the words were to say. A bad choice of words, really, but there was no taking it back. That was the root of it all wasn't it? It simply was not wise to continue with this. Perhaps if he or Trevelyan had been completely different people, had met in other circumstances. "We end it here, I walk away. I won't be pleased, but I'd rather now than later." He turned to Trevelyan. "Later might be dangerous."

"Why dangerous?"

Dorian felt his chest constrict uncomfortably. "Walking away might be harder then," he managed.

"I want more than just fun, Dorian," Trevelyan replied almost immediately, as if it was nothing, as if it had always been the case and Dorian had been agonizing over everything for nothing.

Receiving a positive answer after agonizing about it for so long wasn't so much a relief as it was simply another set of emotions to sift through. Dorian could not believe it at first. Was this a dream? No he was definitely awake, somehow. So it was true? It couldn't be. 

"Speechless, I see," Trevelyan looked a little pleased with himself. 

"I was... Expecting something different," Dorian admitted, disbelief and giving way to something else now, small and without a name but warm where there was once only cold. "Where I come from, anything between two men— it's about pleasure. It's accepted, but taken no further. You'll learn not to hope for more. You'd be foolish to."

"So let's be foolish," Trevelyan smiled, a warm, affectionate smile, though still mixed in with a bit of a smirk that Dorian suddenly found more endearing than irritating.

"Hard habit to break," Dorian sighed.

"I'm good at breaking things," Trevelyan said in a low voice that might have been an attempt at being coy and flirty, but came off rather silly instead. Was the man trying to be funny? If so, it was working, a little.

"Hopefully not everything," Dorian returned, finding it in him to smile now and perhaps stop with the syrupy dialogue and return to indulging themselves in bed activities. Dorian was much better at that. "Care to ah, inquisit me again? I'll be more specific in my directions this time."

Trevelyan snorted and grinned. "Show off," he chided, but allowed himself to be pushed back onto the bed as Dorian sought another round, eager to discover exactly what their foolishness entailed.

-

"Dorian?" Trevelyan murmured sleepily from the bed sometime much later during the dead of night, passions sated for the meantime in favor of slumber. At least, that was what Trevelyan thought. Dorian was standing by an opened door to the nearest balcony, one of the blankets wrapped loosely around his frame. Wherever Dorian's thoughts took him, Trevelyan's voice had not reached him.

Shaking away sleepiness, Trevelyan slithered away from underneath the remaining blankets and padded across the room to Dorian. He didn't find need to cover himself, the hearth providing him with sufficient heat. 

"Dorian," he called again, pulling the man into an embrace from behind. Trevelyan pressed his lips onto Dorian's cheek. "What are you doing trying to catch a chill when there's a perfectly warm bed awaiting you?"

Lost in his thoughts, Dorian hadn't heard or even felt Trevelyan's presence until the man had him locked in an embrace. He pulled himself out of his reverie with a small smile. "I was thinking of something," leaning back to his lover's touch.

His lover. That was right, Dorian was still trying to make sense of such a thing. Oh, there were lovers in Tevinter, plenty, but not one he still had after having gone through the usual motions. This, the intimate touches, the persistent kissing, they were all old hats to Dorian, yet knowing each press of lips to his skin seemed to mean something, that Trevelyan's embrace seemed to convey a wordless request for him to stay, (to stay, when if it had been someone else he would be expected to leave) seemed to make everything new again.

"I do think that 'something' can wait until morning," Trevelyan murmured, his hands, quite behaved for the meantime, resting on Dorian's hips.

"It can, I suppose, if you so insist on bringing me back to your bed," Dorian returned.

"I do insist and I'd like it better if you thought of it as your bed now too." Trevelyan said in his most firm and aristocratic tone, which held little room for argument.

Dorian's heart swelled in his chest, suddenly unbearably tight in his ribs. He turned away from the view of the moons and stars to face Trevelyan. "Usually one would make such an invitation with a little more time for careful deliberations," he said.

"To the void with that. There were rumors you were sharing my bed before you actually ever stepped foot in here." Trevelyan grinned that lopsided, mischievous grin Dorian now only wanted to kiss. "Besides, isn't this the 'more' that we were talking about?"

Dorian fell silent. For a moment, it was not Trevelyan who stood in front of him, but all of Dorian's past paramours. His first, a fellow student who he had fumbled with behind the shelves of the Vyrantium circle's vast library who then brushed him off the very next day, as if it had been nothing. Another man from another one of Tevinter's powerful families, who preferred to spend soirees with him by making good use of a closet, an empty corridor and a secluded garden. Their trysts had ended after the man eventually turned his attentions to another. There were strings of other lovers after that as well, their fleeting presence the only thing they all had in common. All the times Dorian had hoped and finally those hopes had been answered, by a nobleman no less, who had grown up with the same expectations and duties such as he did and also chose not to abide by those. 

"Very well," Dorian agreed, trying not to sound too delighted to hear Trevelyan reaffirm what they had. "It's not as if you would let me refuse."

"I can be very persuasive," Trevelyan said as he closed the glass door and lead Dorian back to the bed.

"I don't doubt it," Dorian said as he and Trevelyan sank into bed again, content to simply lie in each other's arms. Dorian could not help but still worry, but for the meantime they seemed small and insignificant as he was confident he and Trevelyan would overcome them little by little. 

They were together. It was all that mattered.


End file.
